Welcome to the Jungle
by Statyck
Summary: In which a rogue and a warrior find themselves miserable under the heat of Un'Goro Crater. The rogue decides to take a bath in the hot springs, and the warrior is not unhappy to stumble upon her. M-You know why.
1. Chapter 1

**First ever attempt at writing, well, eroticism. It's probably going to be very bad, but I wanted to try. Mostly just to see if I could. Please don't be too harsh. x.x**

 **-Statyck**

 **/*\**

Anaya had very conflicting feelings about Un'Goro Crater. It was beautiful, really. The greenery felt faintly reminiscent of home, and the flowers and wildlife were infinitely interesting. The gardens to the north were a pleasure to behold, even if the Cenarion druids claimed they disrupted the natural balance of things. Dinosaurs trod peacefully about, and the flowers bloomed pink and purple and blue beneath the evening sun. Yes, the crater was undoubtedly very beautiful.

But it was also sweltering hot.

Being a rogue, Anaya wore leather armor. Normally those pieces were exceedingly comfortable. They were light and flexible and she had far more freedom to move and fight than, say, a paladin or a warrior. Yet beneath the roiling hot humidity of the crater she could definitely feel her temperature rising. The only way she could think to describe it was that she was slowly baking, readying herself to become a home-cooked meal for whatever carnivorous creature happened upon her burning corpse.

She collapsed beneath a tree and groaned in annoyance. The day hadn't exactly been peaceful. Yes, she was getting things done and making them work in her favor but that didn't necessarily mean it was a stroll through the woods.

She wanted a raptor. The raptors of Un'Goro were very pretty. With silvery gray scales and electric blue stripes she knew she just had to have one, but that came at a price. She'd been told that their skin was poisonous, and so she'd had to build up an immunity to venom. On top of the sweat and grime working itself into uncomfortable places she was also covered in poisonous raptor blood. It doused her once pristine leathers, and lightly singed her skin. She was about sixty-seven percent certain that she'd lost one of her gold hoops when that lasher struck her ear, and something sticky had matted in her beautiful silver braid.

She sighed again and tried not to think too hard on just what that sticky substance could be. All she knew was that she was exhausted. Her muscles ached, she was positively filthy, and she desperately wanted to sleep. Or did she want a bath? A bath sounded awfully nice right about now, but unfortunately that wasn't an option. There was no inn.

 _Wait!_ Anaya thought to herself. _There are hot springs in Un'Goro. I could bathe there!_ But soon her elation faded. Technically she could go take her bath in one of the pools, but that would not come without risks. Angry elementals haunted the steaming waters, and there was no telling if she might be so unlucky as to have someone stumble upon her.

But then, she _really_ wanted to get this nastiness washed out of her hair.

 _Fuck it_. She mused. _I cannot go on like this. I'm an adventurer, not a swamp dweller. I'm sure anyone with any decent sense of hygiene would do the same._

Her mind made up, Anaya started on her way to the hot spring.

/*\

 _I never should have come here._ Sathrai thought to himself as he trudged through the jungle, his plate armor pieces scraping against one another. It was so. Fucking. Hot. He felt like he might just die at any moment. He stopped a second and popped open a cask of water, all the while holding the mane of bronze hair up off his neck.

It was blood elf custom for men to have exceedingly long hair. Sometimes a man's hair could be over twice as long as a womans. It was just how they were, and though sometimes the other races found it odd the sin'dorei had always prided themselves on meticulous personal grooming. Short hair was a sign of male laziness, and that was not a trait the blood elves found to be very attractive.

It was never something he'd thought too hard on, it had never bothered him before. Not until today that is. Today he couldn't help but think to himself just how impractical it was. He had to tie it up for battles, he had to push it aside to cook, it took forever to brush, and it was just always somehow in the way. It would be nothing for him to just hack it off and be done with it. After a moment of toying with the knife at his belt he sighed and discarded the idea.

With a huff of annoyance he let the ponytail fall back down his back. If he returned home with short hair his mother would throw the biggest fit. It wouldn't be worth it. So instead he began to loosen the laces on his breastplate, hot to the touch, and placed it in one of his bags with his helm. He tossed away the gloves and set aside the bracers. He removed each and every bit of his armor, and replaced it with nothing more than a pair of light cloth pants and shoes.

In spite of being sweaty and overheated, Sathrai felt much better.

Looking around he realized he'd lost track of where he was in the crater, and so he picked a random direction and started walking.

/*\

Anaya glared into the borderline opaque steam. True the last thing she wanted right now was more warmth, but the water was so clear. The steam would obstruct the gaze of any prying eyes, and there were few enough elementals that she could probably just swim to the center of the miniature lake without having to fight. After all, they were only on the shores. No way would they take notice of her if she paid attention and kept her distance.

 _But that would be just my luck._ She thought. _I'd be naked and vulnerable when one of those things decided to wander to the middle of the pool._

And so resigning herself to one more task, she unsheathed her twin swords and artfully disposed of the steam spirits. To her delight it did not take long. She knew there would be more soon. Elementals didn't just die in the manner of other creatures, but she might get an hour or so to herself before the damned things reformed. Cautiously looking around, she ensured that there was no one else before she started stripping. She laid out a set of clean armor on the rock next to her and left her bags next to it. She searched out a bar of soap and her hairbrush, and then sprinted into the awaiting hot spring.

/*\

After finding his way to a small camp, Sathrai found himself more work. There was an archaeologist who needed some assistance up by the hot springs. So, wary of his surroundings, Sathrai made his way there. He shoved aside bushes and jumped over dinosaur hatchlings up until he finally made it to the small hill in the center of the springs. Upon arriving the blood elf found the goblin staring out at something in the middle of the spring.

"Excuse me?" He said. The goblin jumped and whirled, as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"Ah, yes," the little green creature huffed, "what do you want?"

Sathrai raised an eyebrow. For someone who was allegedly waiting for help, he seemed very annoyed.

"I was sent here. One of your colleagues said you might have work for me."

"Ah yes, what did I do with that scroll…?" And as the goblin fumbled about with a bag on his belt, something caught Sathrai's eye. Movement in the springs, the same direction the goblin was looking, but it definitely wasn't one of the elemental spirits.

That was an elf. A woman in fact, and she was most definitely naked. She was angrily brushing out the long silver locks, and then she dropped something into the water. She dove down just as the goblin caught him staring and grimaced.

"Hey now, stop that! I saw her first!" Sathrai crossed his arms.

"Do you want my help or not?" He deadpanned.

/*\

Anaya silently swore to herself as the bar of soap evaded her grasp and fell down into the water. It wouldn't be long until it evaporated and it would be ages before she would be able to get any more. So she immediately dove down to retrieve it. Thankfully the damage was minimal and she was able to salvage the slender bar. She vaulted back up to the surface, clutching her prize, when she realized: she was not alone. As she looked up, she noticed that some of the steam had cleared. Not a lot, but enough that she could see it. Someone was raiding her things.

Her eyes narrowed. If there was one thing that Anaya did not like, it was a thief. She let her naked form slide back into the shadows, and she swam to the shore. She got a better look at the offender – a blood elf like her – and crept up from behind. He was examining the armor she'd left on the rock, leaving her free to reach into her pack and–

"Hello Anaya." A voice said. "I would've never pegged you as an exhibitionist." It teased. The rogue narrowed her eyes, but did not release her camouflage.

"Hello again, Sathrai." She spat. "I did not realize you were in the crater. I would have gone elsewhere."

"Don't be like that." The man said, turning. "I've rather missed you." He stated, handing her a dry blanket while pointedly looking away. She accepted the offering.

"I sincerely doubt that." She murmured, swathing herself in the blanket and revealing herself once more. She watched as he let his eyes flicker to her hidden form and he studied her a moment before huffing.

"That doesn't make it any less true."

Anaya snorted.

"I'm sure you say that to all the pretty girls." She lilted.

"So you think you're pretty?" The man shot back.

"I don't think I'm ugly." She calmly replied. She then lifted an eyebrow. "Do you?" She challenged.

The warrior had nothing to say to that.

"Well it was nice to see you again, Anaya. I have some things to attend to." Sathrai turned to leave, but the rogue called out to him once more.

"I hope you don't intend to fight. It seems you'd get very badly hurt." She remarked. He shook his head.

"On the contrary, this way I'll be able to move much faster than if I was weighed down by a metric ton of plate." He paused, before letting a flirtatious grin spread its way across his face. "Are you worried?" He baited. The woman remained unfazed.

"Of course I am." Then lower. "I would hate to have to tell your mother that her son was horrendously mauled and murdered by the dinosaur he pissed off." She muttered. Sathrai leaned on his sword like a cane and assessed her.

"You'd have been a great mage." He mused. "You use such big words."

"Most people with functioning brains do. Now turn around. I want to get dressed."

"Best not do that here." He warned. "There's a goblin up on that rock who thinks you are very pretty." Anaya's eyes widened and she whirled. She supposed that her face must have been positively terrifying. Even from all the way down here, she could hear the shriek of terror as the little green man dove down to evade her sight.

/*\

Sathrai would be lying if he said that he was not pleased with the way his day had ended. Night had fallen, and so had the temperature. A chilly breeze made its way past the small, secluded cliff he'd brought the rogue to, but though he might have been a bit uncomfortable his companion most certainly was not. The rogue was still wrapped up in his blanket. The night had gone well enough. They'd bantered for a few hours, exchanged stories and jokes, but the man had finally had it.

"Anaya, I promise, no one is going to see you get dressed up here." He placated.

"At the moment I don't think I care. I'm very comfortable." She responded, her tranquil green eyes staring into his own.

"Yeah well I'm not. I'd like to have my blanket back." He grumbled. Her eyes glittered playfully.

"Well then why not join me?" She teased. He shot her a look.

"You don't mean that." He growled. She giggled.

"Maybe I do."

"I remember what happened last time." He said, face serious. A thoughtful look befell the girl.

"That was unfair of me." She said. "It wasn't your fault."

"Sure it was. You told me to stop. I didn't. It was entirely within your rights to run away crying." He turned his gaze to the fire.

"That's true," She said slowly, "but neither of us really knew what we were doing. Something tells me your self-control has improved. To be honest, I kind of always wanted to give it another try." Her voice was gentle and tinged with humor. Sathrai looked up at her and couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Never in my life, did I think you'd have to persuade me to sleep with you." He said.

"Are you saying yes?" She inquired, her smile soft.

"Maybe I am." He lilted. A smirk crossed her lips and she stood up.

"Put the fire out. I'll meet you in the tent."

/*\

Anaya would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She had made this decision at a whim. She had forgotten that she actually _liked_ Sathrai, his humor, his shy sort of kindness. And it certainly helped that his body wasn't bad either. He was tall and lean. His hair was long and silky and she had never been able to figure out if it was brown or red. The small triangle of hair on his chin remained neatly groomed, and to this day he was still the prettiest man she had ever seen. Setting aside her still damp hair, she unwrapped the blanket and sat herself down on his sleeping mat. She was feeling much less sure about this as she listened to him fumble about with that bucket. It wasn't until the light from the fire completely vanished that she felt a small spike of panic grip her heart. There was no moonlight. She couldn't see a thing.

She really did want to try again. She'd had other experiences with other men, but Sathrai was the only one who'd ever actually hurt her. She knew it had been an accident, that he hadn't intended to, but she still felt like she should be braced for it.

She laid down, the blanket covering everything up to her nose until she caught the faint fel glow of the man's eyes as he walked in.

"Hello." He said, kneeling down to straddle her shielded body.

"Hey." She responded. Sathrai slowly began to pull the blanket down, and very carefully placed his lips on hers. His hands caressed her neck, then slid down to her hips. He broke the kiss and pulled the blanket back up over both of them.

/*\

Sathrai was searching for any and all spots that might make her writhe. He did not want to screw this up. For whatever reason she had decided to give him another chance, and he was entirely willing to take it. Though he hesitated to do any more, plain kisses didn't seem to be doing much for her. When he returned to her mouth, she was happy enough. She had pulled at the leather tie in his hair, and the tresses fell around his shoulders. She had grasped on to it, but released him as he began to trail down her neck and shoulders.

She wasn't protesting, but this wasn't making her very happy either. So he tried something else. Very gently, he used his teeth to nip at her skin. She hummed in approval and her arms tightened just the slightest around him.

Oh.

So she was _that_ kind of person.

He let his teeth do the work while his fingers wandered and all the while his desire slowly built up. He lightly scratched at the skin along her hips, her waist, and her back until he was certain that more intimate attentions would be welcomed. It wasn't until she arched her back into him and drug her nails down his shoulders that he let himself buck into her. She gasped and he was grateful that she wouldn't be able to see his smug smile. He shifted his attention down to her breasts. He could feel the small nubs beneath his fingers, and he momentarily regretted putting out the fire.

This would be so much better if he could see her.

But it didn't matter. Though he could feel an occasional scar, her skin was smooth and hot and willing. Her breasts were not large. In fact they felt rather small in his hands, but that didn't faze him in the slightest. Anaya was small anyways. She stood at only five feet tall, and her waist was positively tiny. Her breasts matched, and he found her positively beautiful. She was small, and pale, and her long silver hair made her look almost ethereal where it made other girls just look old. Yes, she was absolutely lovely. Not that he would ever say that. He let his nails pierce the tender flesh and she whimpered, and for a horrifying second Sathrai couldn't tell if it was pain or pleasure. He released his hold and kissed the scratched skin, apologizing for any line he may have crossed.

"You didn't have to stop." She murmured. Her hold on him tightened and she pulled his mouth back to hers. He only grunted in response and went back to what he was doing. While one hand kneaded at her breast, he let the other wander a little lower. Just to see if this was having the effect he wanted.

/*\

When he placed his fingers between her legs, Anaya couldn't help but tense up. Sathrai moved very fast. He brushed against that point near the top and a shock jolted through her body. It was a little like vertigo, but elsewhere. He stroked her up and down and up and down and the sensations only heightened. Her breath grew heavy and was soon entirely audible. Sounds escaped her mouth, things like sighs, whimpers, and wanton moans.

Finally he grabbed her wrist and kept her pinned while he attacked her neck once more. She turned her head so that he might have better access to whatever the hell he wanted. Her neck, her pointed ears, and even her jawline. He inserted a single finger, and Anaya could physically feel her anticipation building. Higher, and higher, and higher…she was so incredibly close that she was about to shriek his name when he had the audacity to stop. He sat up, and Anaya was just about prepared to kill him when she realized what he was doing.

He was taking off his pants. She took the opportunity to slide her legs out from under him. She let him settle back into her slender form, and then she took his hips between her knees. Swiftly she rolled them over so that she was on top and Sathrai lay on his back surprised.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He growled softly, his sharp teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

"Something you'll like." She answered breathlessly. She kissed him again, letting his tongue battle with hers, and she slowly but surely trailed her hand down his body. His chest, his chiseled stomach, a coarse patch of hair, and finally…him. He stood tall at attention, steel covered in silk. His skin was hot, and he gasped as she took hold of him.

She started out slow, painfully so. His hands held on to her hips for dear life, and every so often he'd whimper. He was unsatisfied, she knew that, but she wanted something in particular. Something he would loathe to give her. He opened his eyes and glared at her.

"Y-you're doing this on…on purpose."

"Perhaps."

To this he flipped them back over.

/*\

Sathrai had waited too long. The head was right at her entrance, and he was so tempted to just do it. To thrust forward and take her like an animal. To flip her over and pull her hips up to his. Various images flickered through his imagination, and at this point he didn't think she would mind. He had almost certainly left marks on her skin, whether it was from the bites or the scratches and she had loved every moment of it. Her body was covered in perspiration and felt akin to a heater.

Though he was tired of the jungle, this particular type of heat was welcome. _Very_ welcome.

Slowly, he pressed forward. He was maybe an inch in when he stopped.

It was hell to keep still.

She was so soft, and silky, and soaking, and so incredibly hot. For a moment his body felt weak, and he let his forehead rest on hers. She sighed happily.

"D-don't hold back." She pleaded. That was all it took. He just about lunged forward and she shrieked. He nipped and pinched at her breasts, and he kept his arm solidly wrapped around her. No way was he going to let go. With each thrust the heat in his abdomen intensified. It wound up into a tension so potent it was almost torture, and the only relief was to push it into the womans tiny, beautiful body.

/*\

Anaya's voice keened with every rhythmic thrust. This was just like before, her anticipation building up into something just as pleasurable as it was torturous. Pleasure spiked through her stomach, up her spine, and even all the way down into her fingertips. Her mind had completely fogged over, and all she could focus on was how insanely wonderful Sathrai made her feel. She was right there, at the tip of falling over. She felt each and every inch of him ravaging and stretching her to her full potential.

He hitched her leg over his shoulder, and that gave way to a whole new set of sensations. Her voice got just a little louder as he glided against the most sensitive point of her body. His hips crashed against hers, and he covered her like a blanket. She could even feel him all the way near the back.

Somehow though, it wasn't enough. She needed something else, just a little more….then he abruptly stopped.

"Ugh, fuck." He grunted, and that was it. She cried out his name as waves of pleasure rolled through her body, and she thought she could hear him moan out her name as something as hot as it was wet released.

As Anaya came down from her high she noticed that her skin stung in certain places. She wondered if the wetness was sweat or blood, yet somehow she wasn't inclined to care. After a few more heavy breaths Sathrai removed himself, and collapsed at her side. He took her hand and kissed it before pulling her close and stroking the pale silver hair on her head.

That was when Anaya noticed more acutely the wetness trickling down her thighs, and a terrible thought struck her.

"You, um." She started, still catching her breath. "You have some of that tea, right?"

Sathrai immediately froze and Anaya could almost feel the panic emanating from his body.

"Maybe we should start thinking about names?" He stated sheepishly. She rolled her eyes.

/*\

The titan watched from her terrace as the two lovers reconciled. They didn't know this, but they were both destined to become great. They would raze the worlds of Azeroths enemies, and they would conquer the demons of the Burning Legion. They would unite the races and make this world theirs, but that destiny would only come to pass if they remained together.

 **/*\**

 **I don't like it very much, but it does have a few redeeming qualities in my eyes. Opinions?**

 **-Statyck**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, this seemed to be somewhat well-liked. So why not do a little more with it?**

 **-Statyck**

 **/*\**

Sathrai couldn't say if he'd ever had any true business interactions with the people of the Cenarion Circle. He'd gone to Nighthaven for things like the Lunar Festival and to meet up with his druid friends. Just tourist things. The people were friendly enough with him, but he didn't think he'd actually done anything to deserve that friendliness.

Anyone was welcome in Nighthaven, regardless of race or druidic talent. As long as the peace was upheld and no hostility was displayed towards the guests or residents people could do as they pleased there. It was like many of the other neutral towns throughout Azeroth, though Sathrai definitely found Nighthaven to be more to his tastes.

Though he was a creature of the sun, he could appreciate the more subtle aesthetics of the night elf town. The buildings were simple yet spacious. The trees reflected the starlight, and Lake Elune'ara almost seemed to contain the brightness of the moon itself.

Though his race had embraced darker powers, he was still an elf. He appreciated the purity of the natural energy that soothed and protected this place, and that did not go unnoticed by his peers.

"You know, mon," one of the trolls, a tall blue woman, said, "If you like it here so much, I could try to train you."

"An appealing offer Zeyda, but I don't think my connection to nature is strong enough for me to be a druid." Sathrai answered, chuckling. "Though the sin'dorei do love the forests, we lost that a long time ago." Zeyda shrugged.

"That does not mean you can't reconnect." She insisted, her long fiery braids swinging at her hips as she whirled on him, pointing a finger accusingly. "Besides, if I want that promotion I have to train a new druid. It would be that much more impressive if I could train someone of a race that does not 'belong' here." She rolled her eyes as she made air quotes with her fingers before resuming her walk. Sathrai laughed.

"So it's not about helping me reconnect with nature, but rather making yourself look good for your superiors." He quipped. Zeyda grinned, her small tusks glinting in the light.

"Way I see it, mon," she said, "it's a win-win. You can embrace new powers, and I can impress my mentors."

"Ambitious, aren't you?"

"I try."

"Anyways, what is this lead you were telling me about? I distinctly recall you saying something about good money." He deflected. Sure, the idea of becoming a druid might be an intriguing one, but it wasn't really worth dwelling on. There was business to attend to.

"Well you see…" The troll trailed off.

/*\

Anaya crept along the rooftops in Booty Bay. Though, like Un'Goro, she found the heat pretentious the jungle did have some redeeming qualities. For instance, there was a hint of civilization.

If one could call pirates civilized.

All the same, Booty Bay was like her second home. Being a mercenary of sorts, Anaya had far more in common with the pirates than the noble warriors or the holy paladins of the larger Horde cities. Rogues hid in the dark, waiting for their turn to do some rich asshole's dirty work. Anaya was not the lowest bidder by any stretch, but she wasn't exactly SI:7 either.

She was innocently making her way to her next destination when an angry yelling caught her attention. She stopped and glanced down, taking a moment to watch as a human paladin barreled his way past an orc. A much bigger orc.

Plainly, that human was not very smart.

From her place in the shadows she observed as the orc turned, demanding that the human apologize for his rudeness. There had been no one else on the walkway so late at night, so there had been no reason for the paladin to run into him. The human answered in scathing Common, the words so quick she could barely understand, and Anaya watched with interest. It wasn't often that the Alliance races would be so blatantly rude in the neutral cities. It was common knowledge that the people of the Horde, such as the trolls and the orcs and the tauren, frightened them. They were so much bigger and a good deal scarier with horns and tusks and the like. Anaya was interested to see how this battle would pan out.

"Ten gold on the human." A voice whispered from her side. Anaya jumped and whirled, finding herself face-to-face with… a night elf. A druid in fact. He was hidden in the shadows next to her, in his cat form. He was a bright shade of white, lavender tinging the ends of his fur. A blue symbol decorated his shoulder, and stripes slashed over his eyes. He looked up at her expectantly, his silver-gold pupils narrowing. Anaya gulped. She wasn't used to being seen.

"You're on. That orc will eviscerate him." She answered, a hint of pride tinging her voice. Her mentor had been an orc, a woman with a wicked sense of humor and a tongue as sharp as her knife. Definitely someone to look up to and admire. Yes, the sin'dorei mages practiced their craft with elegance and finesse, but there was no questioning the integrity of an Orcish fighter.

Sure enough, the human man was left with a shattered breastplate and a trip into the ocean waves. After a brief scuffle, the orc had finally had enough of the human's nonsense. He took out his hammer and swung from the side, effectively batting the human off of the walkway as though he weighed little more than a ragdoll. Anaya couldn't help but bust out laughing, revealing herself. The orc looked up her way, startled. He grinned and took a bow, black braids hanging towards the floor. Anaya politely clapped before turning to smugly announce that the night elf had lost the bet, only to find he wasn't there.

Instead of him, ten gold coins sat in his place.

 _Well that doesn't happen every day._ The elf quietly thought to herself. She glanced around, but the druid was nowhere in sight. He had vanished. He had relinquished the coins fairly easily, for someone who was meant to be her enemy. _It could be unwise to take the gold. But it would be equally unwise to say no to free money._

At the very least, even if cursed, the gold could buy her a decent drink. It could even help upgrade her to a better room, seeing as she would have only needed a few more silver to get herself a suite. She plucked the coins from the tiles and checked to see if they might be fake, but the elf had been honest. Satisfied, she glanced down to see that the orc was still looking up at her and she grinned. Maybe she'd buy him a drink too.

/*\

Sathrai leaned against the tree, patiently waiting for Zeyda to finish packing her things. He was scratching at the dirt idly with a stick, drawing half-formed pictures before moving on to something else. He sighed and glared at the tiny house. Druids were frugal and modest people. There was no way she needed two hours to pack.

He was debating whether or not he should go up and knock on the door, if only to ask what the hell was taking so long, when a sound caught his attention. That was Zeyda's voice, definitely, but who was she talking to? It wasn't really his business, but he had grown curious. As far as he knew, Zeyda lived alone.

Intrigued he crept up to the window, only to find that Zeyda wasn't anywhere near the back of the house. Instead her voice came from the entrance by her door. Her voice was tense but quiet. He couldn't hear a word she was saying, but he knew that she was not happy with the conversation. He began to wonder if maybe he shouldn't back off when he heard the sound of a door slamming. Her footsteps were loud as she approached, and with few other options he ducked down beneath her window.

"Frikken worgen," he could hear her mutter, "butting in on matters that don't concern him." He could hear her shuffle around just a little more. It sounded like she'd stepped away, back towards the door, and so Sathrai thought it would be the perfect opportunity to escape. If she found out that he'd tried eavesdropping, she probably wouldn't take too kindly to it.

He scurried away and awaited the call of his friend, letting him know she was ready. He casually looked around, staring at a small squirrel as it tried and failed to drag a pinecone up a tree. It might have been funny had it not been for Zeyda's voice.

"Sathrai!" She called. "I'm done. Let's go. The others are waiting." Sathrai picked up his pack and quickly moved to follow.

"No thanks to you!" Sathrai retorted. "That was two hours I could have spent doing something else." She only shrugged in response. Zeyda summoned a mount and motioned for the blood elf to follow. It seemed he'd gotten away with his little misdemeanor.

Now they would be off to Undercity. That was where they'd agreed to meet up with some of their other friends. They were a strange assortment, really, but they got things done. They had a good variety of talents. They had an undead warlock named Frizz. She was a very talented spell caster who took far too much enjoyment in punting her imp to the other side of Silverpine. There was Magara, an Orcish rogue whom he'd met a few years ago in one of the bars. She liked to sneak up on him, in the hopes of one day making him shriek like a little girl. That wasn't going to happen.

Then there was the monk. The pandaren were a strange bunch, but he probably only thought that because they were so new to him. Xai was a very sweet woman. She always offered him sweets and patched up his wounds the best she could when they traveled together. She was always the first to come to his defense in battle, and would sometimes pat his hair affectionately as though she were his granny.

He had been one of the first people she'd met when she came over to Durotar from her homeland. Her Orcish had been a little broken, and few people were stopping to speak to her. She had only wanted directions, but Sathrai had decided to go a step further. Xai had come to Orgrimmar to find her granddaughter. The young woman had lost contact with her shortly after she'd joined the Horde, and according to Xai she had been her only family left. The pandaren was still looking to this day.

Needless to say he'd grown close with Xai. He could go to her when he found himself missing his own family, and though some of the things she said were a little bit strange she was most certainly wise. She had helped him deal with a lot of different things that he just couldn't bring himself to talk about with his own kin. The death of his father. The loss of his sister. Xai was the only person who knew what had happened with Anaya in Un'Goro.

And just like that, Sathrai's spirits completely tanked.

Yes, he'd definitely be happy to see Xai again.

/*\

The orc had been happy to take her invitation, saying he was glad his night wouldn't end on such a sour note. The stars twinkled above and they sat at the bar in the only tavern in town. Anaya downed at least three mugs of Dwarven ale and maybe half a jug of bourbon. Probably. The details were a little fuzzy, but she knew that the orc had drunk more than her.

It was great fun to speak with him, to have him tell her of his adventures. They shared stories, each trying to top the other with boasts of their own achievements. She came at him with a tale of Zul'Farrak, and he retorted with Icecrown Citadel. She boasted her triumph over Onyxia, and the orc had the audacity to show off his emerald drake just outside the bar. Finally, in her drunken haze she became irate and challenged him to a duel. The orc had guffawed, remarking that it was utterly adorable that a creature as tiny as a blood elf thought she could win a battle with him. Anaya bristled and prepared to unsheathe her twin blades when she'd been so very rudely interrupted.

The goblin bartender had been quick to stop them, chastising the duo in his nasal voice and carrying on about forms and lawsuits and all sorts of other confusing things that Anaya wouldn't have cared to think about sober – forget blinding wasted. So the duo had agreed to wait 'til morning to have their duel, when they were outside of the city. With gallant words and teasing insults the orc and the elf retreated to their respective rooms.

Anaya was quick to collapse onto her bed, the darkness of sleep enveloping her. She supposed it might have been a lovely morning had it not been for the skull-splitting ache just behind her eyes. Turning on her side, away from the window, Anaya pulled the covers up over her face.

"Ow." She moaned, before letting her hand clap onto the bedside table. She knew she'd bought some the day before. She peeked out as she searched for the potion, but it seemed like it was gone. She sighed.

"Great." She mumbled. "Just when I needed it most."

Anaya forced herself out of bed and stripped herself of her armor. It didn't smell very good, having been slept in, but Anaya had been fortunate. The gold she'd gotten from the night elf had, indeed, been enough to upgrade her room. She had a single bed with no roommate and a private bath. Before anything else she wanted to get clean.

Yes. She liked Stranglethorn much better than Un'Goro.

She shook her head and sighed, turning on the faucet. Un'Goro wasn't worth thinking about. She had made a complete fool of herself. Sathrai had made that clear.

She finished up her bath quickly, and downed a few handfuls of water from the faucet. She recalled a friend telling her that hangovers stemmed from dehydration, so lots of water and maybe some fruit for breakfast might fix the problem. She really hoped so. Anaya was entirely without painkillers and she had a duel to attend.

She changed into some clean armor and stuck a plum in her mouth as she analyzed her equipment. She selected a small bag to take with her, and didn't bother with hiding weapons on her vest or in her cloak. The beasts of Stranglethorn had long since ceased to be any kind of real challenge for her. The raptors, the tigers, even the Bloodsail – she could destroy each and every one of them with nothing more than the swing of her sword.

But then she wasn't about to go up against any of those things. She was going to duel that orc, and she didn't quite know the extent of his skills. Considering the stories he'd told her and the proof he had to back it up, she probably shouldn't underestimate him. She decided to pack a few knives and her favored pistols and went on her way.

The forests of Stranglethorn were very pretty. There was a grove just outside the town where groups of gorillas lived, and various insects and reptiles made their homes. That was where she'd agreed to meet the orc.

Come to think of it, she didn't even remember the orc's name. Had she even asked for it? She didn't think so. Hell, as drunk as they'd both gotten last night she wondered if he even remembered the agreement to duel. When she arrived, she didn't see hide nor hair of the warrior.

She let herself slide into stealth mode and sat down at the base of a tree, waiting. She had no desire to disturb the wildlife, and should anything unfriendly head her way she didn't want to be caught unaware. She glanced about and opened up a small cask of water, sipping the liquid as the sun rose further into the sky. Where was he?

It had been a full hour before she decided to leave. The orc plainly wasn't going to show up. As she made it back onto the road, however, a very strange sight indeed caught her attention. Walking along the road was a cat. A very pale cat, with tattoos on its face and lavender tinted fur. Next to the cat was the orc from last night, and they seemed to be having a very pleasant conversation.

 _I see,_ Anaya mentally spat, _they were in on it together. They wanted to keep me distracted. But why?_ She patiently waited for them to pass before casting off her stealth. Slowly she began walking back in the same direction as they were, back into the city. After all, she needed to find more work. Chances were, the postings would be in Booty Bay.

At least she hoped so.

/*\

The pretty blood elf seemed to be having the time of her life with his gold.

Tavoris watched quietly from a corner as she downed drink after drink. For someone so small, he figured she'd have dropped much sooner. He was almost impressed.

He knew her name. Anaya Dawnblade was a well-known outlaw, but she wasn't famous for her work. No though she was said to be a very good assassin with a good code of ethics, the gossip surrounding her focused more on her methods.

There were many rumors saying that Anaya could and did use magic. It would be disgraceful to the sin'dorei aristocracy if that held true. Commoners weren't supposed to be able to become mages or paladins or anything else that required the extensive use of mana, so she'd never confirmed the rumor. But she'd never denied it either. Every so often, whispers could be heard saying that someone saw her freeze an enemy, or shoot arcane bolts, or some other fanciful story.

The night elf watched her from the corner of the bar, taking a moment to down a glass of whiskey before asking the barmaid for a little more. She did as she was asked and he continued his observation.

He'd heard a lot about this blood elf, things good and bad alike. He'd heard that she slaughtered her enemies mercilessly, and that she'd never failed a single job. At the same time he'd also heard that she was a vigilante, killing off murderers and rapists wherever she found them. She was the perfect example of lawful neutral, working for the people she found acceptable regardless of race or faction.

He sincerely hoped that was true. The incident tonight had him hoping to get into her good graces. He gave her real money after inevitably losing that bet, and she was definitely having a lot of fun. He needed help from someone of the Horde, and though she sometimes did jobs for the Alliance it was only ever for citizens. The only military she worked for was that of the Horde, so she had access to places like Orgrimmar and Undercity.

Access that he needed.

/*\

Zeyda glanced over at Sathrai curiously. She'd known the moment he'd crept up to the window. It was why she'd softened her voice. The worgen boy had caught on immediately, and thankfully lowered his tone as well but that didn't excuse his attitude. Her dungeon-crawling adventures were none of his business, and she didn't know who he thought he was to be questioning her actions.

Sathrai hadn't heard a thing, and she had to give him that he was a very good actor. Just to look at him, she'd never guess he'd done something wrong. Normally she'd have flayed him alive for eavesdropping on her, but not now. In spite of everything the blood elf was a good friend, and as her raptor chirped and stole stray lizards and bugs from the dusty ground of Durotar, he teased her for the dinosaur's lack of restraint.

"Oh please," she answered, "I see that bird of yours. It's doing the same thing."

"My 'bird'," he drawled, "doesn't dive down into ditches when she sees something move."

"That was one time!" Zeyda protested. "This raptor has received a good deal of training since then." Sathrai only laughed, and Zeyda wondered if she just might have to slap him. They traded a few more remarks, Zeyda insulting the hawkstrider's feathers and Sathrai making fun of the raptor's shorter-that-average tail, before falling back into a comfortable silence.

Then they got closer.

Orgrimmar was as noisy as always, and as they entered the city Zeyda knew she couldn't talk to him if she wanted to. It was just so _loud_ , especially on her over-sensitive druid ears. There were aspects of her animal forms that carried over to her natural troll body. The loudness of the cities never failed to give her a headache in under a minute.

She winced as one of the guards shrieked at a death knight and Sathrai lightly touched her arm, concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked. She grinned.

"I'm fine mon," she said, "it takes a lot more than a bit of noise to get to me." He didn't look convinced. He dug around in his bag and handed her a small tin.

"Earplugs," he explained, "if it gets too loud for you. I know your ears are a bit more sensitive than mine. Now let's get going, I think I see the zeppelin for Tirisfal." And just like that he took off.

Had those words come from anybody else, Zeyda might have been inclined to kill them. Sathrai, on the other hand, was different. The races of the Horde usually treated their women the same as they treated men. Even across enemy lines, there were the night elves whose military was almost entirely composed of women. There were still prejudices, of course, but it was a little less dramatic for trolls than, say, the humans. That being said, the sin'dorei were a little more like the Alliance in that aspect. Though she bristled at the notion that she was to be treated like a delicate flower just because she was a woman, she understood that Sathrai had been raised differently. To him it was a matter of respect, where to a troll it would be entirely insulting. She remembered the first time she met him, in an Orcish inn. He'd offered to let a female orc take the last vacant bed, thinking he was being nice.

Though she couldn't save him from the embarrassment, Zeyda had most certainly prevented a brutal murder that day.

Now though, things were different. The man oftentimes complimented her talents, and she liked that he acted as though she were the strongest and most capable member in the group – because she absolutely was. In battle he recognized that the company relied on her more than anybody else and, instead of insisting that he take that role as a proper sin'dorei man would, he respected her right to it. She'd earned it, and he was one of the first men she'd met who'd never contested that. Even other trolls and orcs would sometimes suggest that she should be healing, even though she took the form of a bear in the dungeons.

However, she also found appreciation in that Sathrai took her few weaknesses into account. He'd long since learned that a troll was far different from a female elf, thank the Loa for that, but the times that he chose to show gentleness were oddly nice. Like the plugs for her ears. Her strengths could sometimes cause a whole host of entirely new problems, and Sathrai was always happy to work around any new issues that arose for her. For everyone, in fact.

Zeyda led the way onto the zeppelin and Sathrai followed, relaxed and almost sleepy. The troll noticed as a mage – a blood elf like her companion – approached and started speaking. She twirled her hair in her fingers and smiled at him shyly from atop her phoenix. Her words were soft, but judging by the look on Sathrai's face she was definitely flirting. Zeyda almost chuckled to herself. Her friend looked entirely unimpressed, and maybe just a tad uncomfortable. He was being polite, but the mage was getting far too close.

Her behavior was positively revolting, for someone who was supposed to wield such a great deal of power. Plainly Sathrai thought the same, trying to discreetly step away but to no avail. Zeyda watched him suffer a few moments more before deciding to take mercy on the poor boy. She came to his rescue, approaching on the back of her raptor.

"So where in Undercity is it that we're meant to go?" She inquired, feigning ignorance. She shot an apologetic grin at the mage, showing off her tusks. The girl pulled away, disconcerted. Sathrai looked up at Zeyda questioningly.

"You know where." He answered. "The Rogue's Quarter. It was your idea." Zeyda mentally rolled her eyes. For someone who was supposed to be smart, he could be awfully oblivious.

"Yes, yes, I know. I think I know my own mind mon," she said, "but did we ever agree _where_ in the Rogue's Quarter?" She looked at him meaningfully, mentally berating him for not understanding. His eyebrows shot up in realization.

"Oh. You know I think you're right."

As the conversation continued, the mage sat there scandalized. Zeyda supposed that a spoiled blood elf girl – only the wealthy aristocrats were able to use magic – might not be pleased that the warrior's attention had been stolen away by a troll. But though she found the thought amusing, that wasn't Zeyda's problem. The zeppelin had arrived in Tirisfal, and so it was time for them to part ways with the mage anyhow.

It seemed that her friends had grown impatient as well. Frizz was waiting at the zeppelin port on top of the tower, tapping her foot impatiently.

"It's about damn time!" She growled, her yellow eyes flashing impatiently. "You're late!"

"My apologies, Frizz." Zeyda answered. "It was my fault this time. I got a little held up."

"By what?" The warlock spat. "You don't look like you've been in a fight."

Zeyda turned to make sure Sathrai wasn't paying attention, and though she might have found that mage to be a bit disgusting, her presence was tolerable for the moment. She was talking to Sathrai again, leaving him sufficiently distracted. Zeyda dismounted and approached the undead woman.

"It was that worgen again." Zeyda hissed, walking with Frizz while Sathrai lagged behind, all but assaulted by the elf girl. "I'm not sure what to about it." Frizz only shrugged.

"I could take care of it for ya. Just give me a name and an appearance and he's done for. I've told you that. You have no reason to complain. Anyways, let's go. Magara and Xai are waiting for us. Xai even said she had a gift for you."

"Oh really?" Zeyda asked, intrigued. "She's far too sweet, that one."

"You're telling me. One of these days she's gonna be nice to the wrong person."

"I wouldn't be worried about that, mon." Zeyda chuckled. "I've seen her be nice to the wrong person. She was quick to wipe the floor with them."

"Eh," Frizz conceded, "I'll give her that. Xai might be a nice old lady, but she takes no shit. That's why I like her."

"It's why she can afford to be too nice." Zeyda responded. "So how goes the warlock stuff?"

"Magic you mean?" Frizz drawled. "It's fine."

"I notice your imp isn't here."

"Oh that thing?" The warlock said. "It was annoying me. So I threw it off the tower."

"That's not very nice." Zeyda teased.

"It's just a demon. It doesn't care." Frizz's voice lowered to a whisper, and her hair drooped further into her pallid face. "It once told me that it was _into_ that kind of stuff, if you catch my drift." The undead woman actually shuddered.

"And yet you continue to do it…." The troll prodded.

"…I can't think of a better way to torment it." Frizz reluctantly admitted. Zeyda couldn't stop herself from giggling. She exchanged a few more remarks with the warlock as they walked, but it wasn't until they reached the entrance of the underground city that the troll got serious.

"So, I told Sathrai the basics of the mission." She said. "But he was a little uneasy with the lack of detail, and that's a reasonable issue to have. What is it we're going to do in Northrend, Frizz?"

/*\

When Anaya retreated back into the bar she found that the night elf was actually waiting for her. A cat was sitting on a chair in the corner, and though there was a plate on opposite side of the table the orc was nowhere in sight. She ordered a pot of tea from the bar and nodded politely in greeting when she caught him staring, but he didn't react in the slightest.

Anaya turned, a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny but unwilling to give it away. She patiently waited for the bartender to return, leaning casually against the bar. She could feel the eyes boring into the back of her head. It felt like forever before the goblin brought her a plain tin plate holding a large ceramic pot, some tea leaves for her to choose from, a cup, and some sugar and cream. She left her tip and carefully balanced the plate on her hand, making her way to another corner of the tavern.

She just wanted to sit down and have a quiet evening. The events with the night elf and the orc had left her with a sour taste in her mouth. As she prepared her tea and removed some rations from her bag, she noticed that the druid was still staring at her.

"Can I help you?" She whispered, raising an eyebrow. Though he was all the way across the room, she knew he could hear her. Druids had the senses of animals, and with only a few conversations going on at the moment they might as well have been entirely alone. Silently, the cat stood up and approached. His paws were silent on the creaky wooden floor, and Anaya held her cup carefully as the cat smoothly stood up into a man.

Anaya had always found the kal'dorei to be pretty, most people did, and the druid was no different. He was a little more slender than the average night elf man, lean instead of muscular. His skin was a subtle shade of periwinkle, just pale flesh tinted blue, and it contrasted harshly with his dark leathers. His hair hung long and white down his shoulders, his bangs threatening to cover his face. His eyebrows were fluffy, and pale stubble decorated his jaw.

He removed the claw-like weapons on his hands and beckoned over a barmaid. She gave him a glass of…something, and the druid took a sip. Anaya patiently waited for him to be done, holding her cup of tea close to her face. She wasn't wearing a hood or a mask or anything and so felt uncomfortably exposed with her long white braid hanging over her shoulder, the strands pulled taut and exposing her face leaving her oddly vulnerable. The night elf set his glass down and looked up, his eyes that same odd mixture of silver and gold.

"You can, actually." He said, answering her question. "I want to hire you. I need something that can only be obtained from the lands belonging to the Horde."

 **/*\**

 **Welp. I wasn't going to do anything more with this one, but I thought these characters had a bit more potential and it would be unfair to leave their story at that. If you got this far, maybe leave a review? :D**

 **-Statyck**


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